


True Blue

by shewasjustagirl



Category: Rhett & Link
Genre: Infidelity, M/M, rhink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-19
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-02 11:31:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10943622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shewasjustagirl/pseuds/shewasjustagirl
Summary: A recounting of Rhett and Link's business trips to Austin, TX.





	1. December 2009: Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett and Link arrive in Austin, TX, home of True Blue Tattoo, the recipient of their next local commercial.

Rhett sighed heavily, stretching his arms wide. He had only just gotten away from the confined quarters of the commercial plane, and now his long limbs would once again be made to bend in. He leaned heavily on the car one more time, forcing his shoulders back and taking a deep breath before folding his body into the compact vehicle.

The driver's seat of the rented 2008 Ford Focus had clearly been occupied most recently by someone much shorter, and he mumbled his complaints as he reached under the seat to adjust it. With a quick tug, his knees fell away from his chest and the seat slid into place, clicking as it slammed the duffel bag behind him into the backseat.

Next to him, Link was rolling his eyes and adjusting his own seat, making sure not to crush his bag or their equipment, which he was now thankful he had loaded into the space behind him.

"We'll stretch out at the hotel, man."

"You better get ready, because I'm stripping as soon as I walk through the door," Rhett laughed without joking. "I still can't believe we're not springing for a second hotel room."

The small blue car pulled away from the airport and headed west. As Rhett drove, Link watched his expression fade from frustration to concentration, and Link concerned himself with following the vague directions they had gotten from the hotel's website.

"We've talked about this already, Rhett," Link's eyes darted between signs and he pointed to the right, leading them toward the center of Austin. "It's either one room downtown or we have to drive thirty minutes each way to afford two."

Rhett huffed. Link had given different excuses in different towns, but the result had been the same for months. They were sharing a room, and Link would not be swayed by Rhett's post-plane foul mood. He'd experienced it enough as they'd travelled to each destination in the 'I Love Local Commercials' campaign over the last few months to know he could safely ignore it and it would wear off. Rhett was always happier once they arrived and got to work.

They approached a fork in the highway and Rhett squinted up at it, slowing enough to cause the car behind him to swerve and pass. Even in December, the sun shone bright above them in the cool Texas sky, and here, on the outskirts of town, traffic moved steadily around them. 

"Right here? Seventh? Link!" Link had been nodding without speaking, and by the time he said yes aloud it was too late.

Rhett sighed and continued up Airport Boulevard, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. "Help me look for another number street," he said, softer than Link anticipated, as he stared across five wide lanes. Then he added, following up on Link's excuse for this new town and this new commercial shoot, "And I know, buddy. I just thought it might be a little bit of a vacation this time. Austin's supposed to be fun."

"Rhett," Link whined at his friend's continued complaints. "We can still have fun. But we're trying to raise two families--"

"I know, I know." Rhett recited the speech he'd gotten many times from his frugal friend. "Keep overhead low because we're trying to raise two families on the little bit of money we're making chasing our dreams and doing comedy together." 

But he was smiling now, and he nudged Link's shoulder before turning the small vehicle left onto 12th Street. "Now get us a better map for this place. If we can't see a single tall building yet we're not anywhere near downtown."

They sat quietly, Rhett keeping his eyes on the narrow road, Link dragging his finger along a printed map of town as they passed through East Austin. When thick traffic settled in around them, Link sat up straight. "Red River! Yes! Turn left just past this highway."

They made their way slowly down the crowded street until Link saw what he'd been looking for. A sky blue building appeared on their left. "True Blue Tattoo!"

Rhett chuckled at Link's choice of destination. "Okay, okay, we found it. Can we please go to the hotel now?"

 

Rhett was true to his word. Once the door was closed behind them and their equipment and duffel bags were unloaded in the corner, a pair of extra long light wash jeans hit the carpeted floor in a pile. Link laughed at the bare legs splayed wide across the bed closest to the window and stepped up near Rhett's head to turn down the heater. Before settling onto his own bed, he picked up the jeans and folded them carefully. 

He could feel eyes on him, and he turned to shake his head at Rhett's smirk. "Don't look at me like that. You know you're going to wear these again tonight." 

Link hung up his jacket and removed his shoes. He reached for the tv remote and then thought better of it, allowing the silence, but for his own dull footsteps and Rhett's breathing, to fill the room. As he lay across his bed, eyes closed, he waited for Rhett to mention how nice this hotel was. He may have refused to pay for two rooms, particularly not downtown, but he hadn't picked the cheapest place available for their two nights in Texas. 

The Hilton was a few blocks from True Blue Tattoo, and their north-facing room offered them a view of downtown, the Capitol building, and the University of Texas campus with its looming bell tower. The beds were soft and covered in fluffy white sheets and comforters. Each man had a queen bed and four pillows of his own, and in the corner was a small mini fridge (which Link would not be letting them touch -- he had to draw the line somewhere).

Rhett opened his mouth to say all of this, to compliment Link's choice, perhaps to thank him, but the sound of a soft, heavy breath stopped him. He rolled to his left and found Link asleep for the second time that day. For a moment, he marveled at his friend's ability to fall asleep so quickly, to go from constant movement to none in such a short time. But in the soft bed, finally able to stretch his legs and back, sleep came to Rhett, too.

As his heavy eyelids slid closed, he mumbled through a grin in the direction of the other sleeping man. "Yeah, mine's comfortable too, dude."

 

The sun fell behind buildings and dissolved into the lake across town, taking Austin's mild almost-winter day along with it. Link awoke, shivering. With the heater turned off, the room was quickly attempting to catch up to the chill outside.

Like a man peeling off a bandage, Link jumped out of bed, took three running steps across the room, and flicked on the heater. On the bed next to him, Rhett snored quietly, the sheets and comforter on his bed pulled up around his chin.

For just a second, one fleeting moment, Link considered letting him sleep. Then, just as quickly, his knees were on the bed and his arms at Rhett's sides, his fingers able to dig at Rhett, but not tickle, through thick layers of fabric. 

Rhett opened his eyes and swatted slowly at Link's arms until he was fully awake.

"Did you get your nap out?" Link teased. 

"Hey, you started it."

Link hopped off the bed and continued eyeing Rhett as he rubbed the mid-afternoon sleep from eyes. When he had been asleep, Rhett always looked softer around the edges, his cheeks pink and his curly blond hair a little messy, his eyes wider than usual.

"You look like you just woke up."

"Man, you just woke me up!" Rhett's laughter shook the bed under him and he slid his bare legs out from under the covers, throwing a pillow at Link. "Shit! It's freezing in here!"

Link handed Rhett his folded jeans and threw the pillow back. 

"Damn, and I'm hungry, too." Rhett stood and reached for his blue wind jacket. "Let's go find some food."

 

Rhett sat at a small, red painted picnic table, three food truck tacos having satiated his hunger and left him grinning up at the bustling street. Link took their trash away and came back to the table, startling Rhett out of his thoughts. 

"You ready to head back?"

The glint in Rhett's eye told Link they would not be going back to the hotel right away. "Nah, you said we could have fun! That right there is Sixth Street. And this town is known for live music! Plus we took a nap.”

“We took a nap because we were exhausted.”

“But --”

“And because we have to work early tomorrow morning.”

“Link…”

Link stared into Rhett, weighing the risks of staying out late. 

“I did say we could have fun.” The side of Link’s mouth quirked up. “One drink?”

“Deal! Let's go!"

Even on the chilly Friday evening, crowds were beginning to form and police officers set up barricades, blocking off the bar-lined street to through traffic. 

They strolled up the middle of the road, hips and arms bumping together as they focused more on people-watching than on walking. Occasionally they'd comment on groups of young girls rushing through the cold air in too few clothes or on brightly dressed street performers. They stopped in windows, listening for good music, and finally ventured into a bar.

The bar, Friends, was housed on the first floor of an historic building. Tonight it was loud and packed, but Link managed to find a tiny circular table near the door while Rhett ordered $3 well drinks.

The band featured four guitarists and a drummer, and each man, in turn, became the lead singer. They played Lynyrd Skynyrd ("Sweet Home Alabama is a little ironic, huh?" Rhett yelled into Link's ear, pointing to the Texas flags lining the wall), Willie Nelson ("No one actually sounds like Willie," Link pinched his nose at Rhett and rolled his eyes as the singer attempted his best nasally tone), and Queen (both men clapped and whooped along with the crowd at the country/rock band's attempt to pull off Freddie Mercury). 

When their glasses contained only ice, Rhett nodded in question to the door, and Link responded by standing and offering his seat to a couple who had just walked in. Out in the night air, their noses cold and their bellies warm, Rhett hooked his arm through Link's and began to sing loudly.

"Rhett..." Link whispered sternly as he looked around, expecting other people in the street to be staring at them. When he found no one was fazed by the display, he spoke more loudly. "Okay, okay, Rhett, cut it out!" 

"I'm on vacation, Link!"

"You had ONE drink!" Link was laughing now, and he joined in with Rhett on the next chorus, their harmonies carrying them closer to their hotel and causing people to finally glance their way. Even in this town, passersby couldn't help being momentarily captivated by the two tall men, their loud voices tangling perfectly together against music only they could hear.

 

After a few blocks, Rhett stopped abruptly, ripping at Link's arm and pulling him to wait at his side.

"Look Link!"

Rhett was pointing at an overhang announcing the entrance to a bar called Shakespeare's Pub. It was surrounded on all sides by dozens of other restaurants, bars, and one brightly lit movie theatre, and its exterior gave no indication of what had caught Rhett's eye. Its name was nowhere near the most interesting on the block. The black-and-white lettering Rhett pointed toward was nowhere near as interesting as the signs establishing the front doors of the bar’s neighbors.

"Shakespeare. Isn't that poetic?"

"Maybe you are drunk," Link chuckled. "Come on, let's head back. It's getting late."

"Just one more drink, Link! Vacation, remember?"

 

When Rhett found Link in the crowd of Shakespeare's Pub's roof patio, he was holding out two pitchers triumphantly.

"What the heck, dude?" Link was wide-eyed at the size of the drinks. He’d asked Rhett to order him a gin and tonic.

"Link, they were five dollars!"

Rhett assumed Link's first concern would be the cost of a drink that was clearly three or four times the size of the ones from the previous bar. Still, Link looked skeptically at the murky brown plastic holding the iced drink. "Okay, but what is it?"

They were small pitchers of Long Island iced tea, and they were the special of the night. At least half of the people in the bar were also holding the pitchers. Against his better judgment, Link nodded, took his drink, and shook his head as he gave Rhett a crooked grin. Rhett returned the grin, holding Link’s gaze and lifting his eyebrows as he waited for Link to take a sip.

"Hooo boy, those are strong." Link coughed and stuck out his tongue.

"They have pretty much every kind of liquor in them," Rhett gave Link another sinister smile. Link was prone to becoming quickly drunk. Rhett had learned that lesson early and often as his college roommate. "And definitely no tea."

"Jesus, Rhett." Link stared down at his drink for a moment and made a decision. "Well. You better be in charge of setting our alarm for tomorrow." 

And with that, Link took another swig from the long straw and grabbed Rhett's hand, dragging him closer to the roof’s balcony, where a crowd of people were dancing near a DJ stand.

At first, the pair remained on the fringes of the crowd, singing along to songs they knew, bobbing their heads and belting popular choruses along with the crowd. (Link nodded at Rhett but didn’t hear it when he pointed out that for the second time that night they sang about a different state -- New York this time.) Slowly, the mass of people grew around them, and they danced their way into the center of the floor, where being pressed together by strangers forced intimacy on friends. 

Rhett leaned close, his beard tickling Link's cheek as he asked him a question that went unheard. Link shrugged his shoulders, mouthed that he couldn’t hear, and went back to dancing, reaching for Rhett's arms to encourage him to do the same in time with the music.

When Rhett's pitcher was empty, Link reached for it and replaced it in his hand with his half-full one. He pointed to himself and twirled his hands around his head, signaling that he was already feeling the liquor and didn't want any more. Rhett was tipsy, and Link momentarily disappeared from his vision in the crowd, but Rhett towered over them, and he caught sight of Link placing the empty pitcher against a far wall where a group of them had formed. 

Link shimmied his way through the crowd and returned to his place at Rhett's side. The lights dimmed and the music became unrecognizable, a loud, pumping pulse thrumming in Link’s buzzing ears. The bodies in the crowd moved more slowly now, and Link's mind slowed with them as streetlights cast a glow on the throng of swaying bodies, hips and arms and legs all moving together.

He swayed languidly to the music, closing his eyes and allowing his body to join the rhythm of the group. Rhett's head was swimming as he stood still in the center of the dancing crowd, sipping from the straw as he watched Link’s hips sway and his hands knot in his hair. 

When blue eyes caught his, the plastic pitcher dropped to the floor, splashing its contents on Rhett’s shoes. Before he could say no, before he could tell himself he wasn’t actually drunk, Rhett’s hands were on Link’s waist, and he did his best to mimic the movements of the body moving under his hands. _Link may be too far gone to think anything of this,_ he told himself. _But if he remembers in the morning..._

Rhett’s tipsy mind made the decision for him, tightening his grip on his friend’s lithe body as Link's eyes slid closed again. If Rhett had to, he could feign drunkenness and blame its effects in the morning.

 

Too soon, far too soon, Link opened his eyes again, and the man he would be in the morning, the one who had to get up and get to work, broke through the trance. With one hand on Rhett’s upper arm and one sliding his fingers under Rhett’s, he removed the hands from his body and led Rhett off the dance floor to the bar’s main staircase. 

Rhett felt as though he was breathing for the first time in hours when they emerged on the street. 

“Uh, we’re this way. Just a few blocks I think.”

“Yeah, we better get back,” Link released Rhett’s hand, having held it on their way down the stairs and through the first floor. The loss of the heat from the big, sweaty palm left Link shivering as he did his best to focus on walking with sure feet. 

Rhett looked at the ground as they walked. “I’m… Uh, sorry man.”

“Sorry?” Link turned and tugged at Rhett’s jacket, pulling him to a stop. Again their eyes met, and Rhett marveled for the thousandth time at the pair he’d known since childhood. Link’s vision focused and blurred again as he searched Rhett’s face for the source of his concern.

“I wanted to have fun, and you -- we -- got a lil’ drunk.”

Link’s crooked smile lit up his pink face. “It was fun, bo. And we have another night.”

Link winked and turned back in the direction of the hotel, Rhett’s mouth hanging open for a moment before he jogged to catch up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know your thoughts! Any kudos and comments are much appreciated! <3
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://clemwasjustagirl.tumblr.com/) if you're into that kind of thing.
> 
> Thank you [Mythicalseries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythicalseries/pseuds/Mythicalseries) for your encouragement and notes (and listening to me get excited and rant, etc.) You da best <3


	2. December 2009: Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rhett and Link film their tattoo commercial for True Blue Tattoo and get back to their miniature vacation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My girl [Mythicalseries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythicalseries/pseuds/Mythicalseries) has been listening to me rant about this chapter for weeks. Thank you! You da best <3

Rhett moved stealthily through the cool hotel room, sliding the curtains closed before the rising sun could breach them and turning off the bedside alarm clock before it could sound. 

It was just 6 a.m. He’d woken up unprompted, shivering through the aftereffects of the alcohol in his blood. In the other bed, Link was sleeping soundly. That was fine; he didn’t need to be up for another couple of hours. They weren’t scheduled to meet the owner of True Blue Tattoo until ten, and it would only take a few minutes to capture some establishing shots outside before traffic got too heavy.

Rhett would let him sleep. 

His feet carried him silently across the carpeted room, past Link’s bed and into the bathroom, and he smiled down at them. His skin tingled, the alcohol working its way out of his system. Between his sure-footedness, his crawling skin, and the unmistakable thrill of moving around unnoticed first thing in the morning, he felt nimble and alive. Rhett’s propensity for waking up early after a night out drinking had served him well through the years, and this morning was no different. 

He needed the time.

It took a moment of fiddling at the nozzle to get hot water, but steam soon filled the room, swirling around Rhett as he eyed himself in the wide vanity mirror. He looked more awake than he thought he would. His eyes were a little red, but nothing that couldn’t be explained away by having gotten only five hours of sleep. 

Streaks on the mirror, invisible before, creeped across Rhett’s reflection. The man in the glass looked back at him and smirked, lifting one eyebrow, his head twitching subtly to the side. You weren’t all that drunk last night, the man seemed to say. You had just enough to… _What? Feel uninhibited?_

“Just enough to thin my blood out.” Rhett chuckled at himself and shook away a chill that crept across his bare shoulders even as the air around him got warmer and wetter.

When he could no longer see his reflection, Rhett stepped up into the bathtub and stooped under the steady stream of scalding water. The heat warmed his body, first in specific, burning patches, then from the inside out.

Warm palms pressed against cold tile as he hung his hair into the hot water. With his eyes closed against the stream, Rhett’s mind wandered.

A mumbled, low “Don’t go there, McLaughlin” echoed around him, but in the self-imposed darkness, Rhett’s thoughts betrayed him. They wandered to the undulating crowd on the rooftop of Shakespeare’s Pub. To the way his best friend had temporarily given up control over the situation, allowing Rhett the small vacation he’d begged for. To the way Link’s hips moved in time with the music. To his hands on Link’s waist...

His eyes still closed, Rhett’s hands found his own middle and squeezed, but he couldn’t replicate the sensation. Link felt so small and strong as he moved in Rhett’s hands. It was as though he ingested the music along with the alcohol. The low bass beat along to the night air, through Link, and into Rhett’s fingers.

And then, when Link had opened his eyes, the look he’d given Rhett. How gently he’d led them from the bar. 

And finally, Link’s promise: _We have another night._

Rhett opened his eyes and straightened, digging his fingernails into his hair and pushing the water out of his face. _That’s enough. It was fun._

But the charge in his veins and the unrelenting memory agreed. It wasn’t enough. But they had another night. Another night to pretend they were on vacation. Another night of freedom. 

Quickly, Rhett brushed the tiny hotel soap over his body, rinsed off, and stepped up to the mirror, creating his own streak on it where his dripping face was once again peering at him.

“Stop being weird. It’s you and Link,” Rhett’s reflection said to him. He shook his head, doing his best to push the night before from his mind. They weren’t on vacation now. It was morning, and they had a job to do. So that they could feed two families and keep doing this comedy thing together.

 

Rhett eventually wrapped a towel around his waist and emerged from the bathroom. He found Link asleep on his back in the still-dark room, so he carefully lay on his own bed and waited, taking mental note of ideas for their commercial. They had sketched out some thoughts, but they would be deciding the direction for the ad and writing it throughout the day as they met the shop’s employees. 

When Rhett knew Link wouldn’t want to sleep any longer, he got up, pulled on some jeans, moved the curtains back a few inches each, and fired up the room’s coffee pot. 

“Hey buddy. Time to get up.”

For just a moment, a semi-conscious Link looked peaceful, his angular face softened by drowsiness and his eyes blinking rapidly. Then sleep began to leave him, and the smell coming from the small cup Rhett held brought him into the room. 

“What time is it?”

“It’s just eight.”

Link sat up straight, pushing down the sheets and revealing a bare chest and boxers. “Man, what happened to the alarm? We’re running late!”

“We didn’t need to be up any earlier than eight, man.” Rhett flashed a smile and placed the coffee in Link’s hand, turning around to his own bed. He sat facing Link now. “You don’t need to hurry.”

Link scooted himself up the bed, careful not to slosh the coffee onto the plush white material or his own bare chest. When his back was pressed against the wall and half the coffee was gone, the caffeine bringing him fully into the wakefulness, he began again. “Well I at least need to take a shower real quick.”

Rhett shook his head and flashed a grin. “You showered last night, buddyroll.”

“I did?”

“I assume that’s what you were doing in there. The soap was open and in the shower when I got in.”

Link laughed and took another swig of the dark brown liquid. “Yeah, sounds like I at least tried.”

“You’re a night shower-er, Neal,” Rhett’s eyes smiled over the lip of his own cup, and he took a sip. “Regardless of inebriation. How you feelin’ this morning?”

“Um,” Link closed one eye and squinted, assessing his state, starting with the low throbbing in his head and ending with the slight soreness in his legs. “Not bad. Could probably use an aspirin. And a lot more coffee.”

 

Downstairs, they waited in line to order what would be Link’s fourth cup. As he talked through the details of their morning meeting, Link caught Rhett staring at him, unlistening. “What?” 

“I can’t believe you’re wearing the Red House shirt.”

Link looked down at himself, tugging on the hem of the fabric. He was wearing the bright red shirt under an army green jacket. 

The line of sleepy-looking hotel guests moved forward slightly and Link took a step with it. “It’s good luck, man. Don’t do me like that.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know how you are about all that stuff.” Though he wasn’t looking up, Rhett knew Link could hear the smile in his voice. “So, ‘ve you thought any more about what tattoo you’re getting? We’re doing butts, right?”

Link turned back to look up at Rhett again, scrutinizing his face for a moment before answering. Rhett was looking down at him nervously. “Yeah. I’m thinking that’ll be funniest for the video. And then at least it’ll be somewhere that’s not usually on camera.”

Link had worried over the pain, but his mind was made up. Rhett was worried about the tattoo’s permanence. They had gone through pierced ears and dyed hair and strange facial hair configurations, but those were all easy enough to change. 

“Oh man. I can’t believe my momma’s gonna see this.”

“We have to do it, man. Plus, it’ll be our cameo. And think about how much the mythical beasts are going to love it.”

“I know, I know. But we have to pick something to put on our bodies forever.”

“How often do you look at your butt, anyway?” Link stepped up to the counter, ordered a large black coffee, and stepped to the side. At the pickup counter, he continued. “I still think since we’re showing them in the behind the scenes ours have to match somehow.”

“Behind. Ha.” Rhett nudged Link and waited until he smiled at the bad joke to continue. “You’re not still thinking we should get the logo, are you? Or ‘rhettandlink.com’?”

“rhettandlink.com would be so funny, man!” Rhett arched an eyebrow at him, clearly not loving the idea. “But no,” Link went on, “I don’t think I need to have your name or face on my ass.”

Link’s nonchalance helped push away Rhett’s nerves, and he chuckled. “Okay, good.”

“But how about this? I was thinking -- a guitar for you and a pair of glasses for me? Sort of a symbol of the duo type thing?”

“Oh hey, you wanna see my tattoo? It’s a guitar wearing glasses!”

“No, no!” Link laughed and smacked Rhett’s arm. “I mean you get a guitar and I’ll get the glasses.”

Link’s coffee was ready, and the woman at the counter called his name twice before Rhett heard and reached for it. 

The styrofoam cup found its way into Link’s hands and Rhett turned toward the door, shouldering half of their gear. “If a guitar wore glasses, would they be up on the neck or down on the body?”

“Rhett…”

A mischievous grin played at Rhett’s lips. “These are important questions, Link.” 

Link shook his head, chuckling at his friend despite himself. “Shut up, man. Here, look.” Link shifted the coffee to his right hand and reached into his back pocket. Then he handed Rhett a folded piece of notebook paper and watched as Rhett opened it, cocking his head to the side in question. 

There, in dark pencil, Rhett found a guitar tattoo. One he knew he wanted.

It was simple, a few thin lines. In the vein of Picasso’s line drawings, it was just enough to suggest the presence of a guitar, but not enough to sully the image with any unnecessary strokes. 

“You drew this for me?”

“Well yeah,” Link rubbed at the back of his neck and looked up at Rhett from under his eyebrows. “Did you think I found it layin’ around?”

“Nah,” Rhett grinned, carefully folding the paper and slipping it into his own pocket. “I can tell it’s you.” 

Link’s face lit up, his lips parting into a broad smile that moved to take up most of the right side of his face. Rhett knew that smile. Link was really pleased with his reaction. 

“I like it a lot, man. Thanks.” 

“You got it. But you don’t have to decide now, y’know,” Link shrugged. “Just thought you might like it.”

 

Inside the surprisingly airy building, surrounded by colorful drawings meant to serve as inspiration for tattoos, Link complained about the car parked outside. Rhett did his best to assure him that it would add ambiance to the shot. This building was downtown -- of course cars were parked on the street.

“Anyway, don’t worry about it, man. That car’s probably been there for days. Nothing we could do.” 

With a tilt of his head, skepticism written on his face, Link gave it up. “We can check again tomorrow before we leave, I guess. Here we go, this is him.”

Over the phone, Charles, the owner, had sounded concerned about dealing with two guys who planned to come into his business to make a funny video, but after sending him links to some of their past ads, he'd agreed to have True Blue featured. 

After going back and forth via email, he was willing to kid around with them, starting with their choice of meeting time on a Saturday morning. When Link jokingly suggested surprise at none of the piercers or tattoo artists being around the shop that morning, Charles laughed. “‘Cause someone decided we should be here at ten in the morning.”

That’s the moment Rhett knew they’d like working with him. Link’s hair was tousled, he looked like he had just woken up, but he was clearly the more serious of the two of them about this early meeting, and within minutes, Charles was comfortable busting his chops.

Link, never one to drop a joke, went on. “Yeah, isn’t that like prime time for getting a tattoo or a piercing?”

"I don't think you make those kind of decisions at 10 a.m." Rhett interjected, thinking nothing of the tattoo he’d decided he wanted only moments ago.

"No, you make those at 1 a.m.,” Charles concluded.

That comment set the wheels spinning in Rhett’s mind, and the theme of their commercial became an attempt at reverse-psychology: If you get a tattoo or piercing, you may regret it.

The business, it turned out, was perfectly situated between two places frequented by those seeking tattoos. On one side was a bar called Barbarella, which was packed nearly every night with college students and Austinites who wanted to stay out late -- the bar was one of the only places downtown that stayed open until 3 a.m., an hour after alcohol could no longer be served. 

“So we tell ‘em they still have time to party if they’re already down here. Even at 1, you can dance another couple hours next door,” one of the piercers informed Rhett.

On the other side of True Blue was a music venue called Emo’s. “Lots of our return clients follow the bands that play there,” the man told them. “And a lot of ‘em’ll bring in friends after a show.”

 

The duo quickly cultivated a rapport with the tattoo artists and piercers as they arrived for work that afternoon. Rhett and Link talked with them about their tattoos, about the stories that inspired them, and about their experiences dealing with stereotypes surrounding people with so many body modifications. 

Out in the sun, they shot video of True Blue’s employees walking the streets of Austin and got closeups of their body art. The more each person shared about themselves and their tattoos and piercings, the more open they were to Rhett and Link and being in the ad.

At one point, Rhett overheard Charles calling them ‘silver-tongued devils’, and he smiled to himself. He was proud to accept the description. Together, he and Link could do anything. They had made a movie that year, after all. They could get other people to follow them into anything, talk about anything. 

A soothing feeling, somewhere deep down, reminded him they were doing the right thing. That they were supposed to be following this crazy dream. That they would be great.

Across the room, Link caught his eye. “You okay, man?”

“Yeah,” Rhett grinned. “I’m really good.”

 

One piercer was particularly easy going, and when he heard about Rhett and Link’s plans to get tattoos, and learned where they planned to put them, he revealed that, as heavily tatted as he was, he didn’t have any tattoos on his butt.

"Well I mean, think about it! If somebody pinches you on the butt it hurts."

"Or spanks you." Link replied without missing a beat. 

A blush rose quickly in Rhett’s cheeks, burning out into the cool room. _Did he just say...?_ Rhett caught his mouth hanging open seconds later and prayed no one in the room had been looking his way. 

Luckily, the man kept talking. “Do you know what you want? You gonna get ‘MOM’? The ol’ cliche tat for the cameras?”

Rhett laughed. The man was onto them about their real motivation for using the business’s services. “We love our moms, but our wives would probably find that a little strange.” There it was again. It slipped out. Once more, for what must have been the thousandth time, Rhett found himself explaining to a virtual stranger that they were married -- to wives. 

“Well there you go, your wives, then.” 

Rhett blanched. Any excess color remaining in his face was surely taken care of. 

“Uh, yeah.” He looked at Link for help, but his friend just raised his eyebrows at him. “We’ll think about it. Probably going to go a different direction. Link’s been drawing up some ideas.”

 

Filming culminated around eleven with the duo pretending to get their tattoos done simultaneously, wincing for the camera as a tattoo artist sat between them. 

A small crowd gathered behind the camera, and as Rhett rolled over, Link sat up and gave a little speech about how much fun everyone had been and how much they’d enjoyed working together. 

“Y’all aren’t done, right?” The tattoo artist, the only one in the building who couldn’t be talked into saying anything for the camera, asked Rhett. “Coming in the morning for the real thing?”

“Yeah, I guess so…”

Rhett peered up at him nervously, but the man’s face broke into a broad smile. “I’m good at what I do, man. Be here at 11. We have some other appointments, and you can watch first if you need to.”

 

In the cold night air outside the shop, they filmed a wrap up for the behind the scenes video, and Link told the camera they’d gotten tattoos on their ‘hind parts.’ 

“And we made a commercial,” Rhett added. 

Link smiled into the camera. “That’s right, we did that too.”

When they’d finished filming (after taking a few steps into the doorway at Emo’s for a “screamo show” and saying they’d rather go back to the hotel), Rhett grabbed Link by the arm. 

“Should we shoot that again? Just in case? You said we got tattoos.”

“We did, Rhett! Or by the time anyone sees that, we’ll have ‘em. You’re not backing out now, brother.”

For a moment, uncertainty reigned. Link, the vestiges of a smile sticking to his face, searched Rhett’s for an assurance that he was making the right decision for them, and Rhett stared back, still unsure, wanting to believe Link knew what he was doing. 

But in his back pocket, a small piece of paper was burning through Rhett’s inhibitions. A simple line drawing, a gift from his oldest friend, a tattoo Rhett knew he could be proud of, brought him back into the moment. 

“You know what? You’re right.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’ll be funny for the video. And how much do you look at your own ass, anyway?”

“That’s what I said this morning!” Link laughed, a wave of relief washing over him as Rhett’s brow settled and his eyes smiled back into Link’s own. “So, we’re done with work. Vacation?”

 

Barbarella, the wall at its entrance emblazoned with an image of Jane Fonda in the cult-classic role, was already buzzing when Rhett and Link made their way inside and to the bar. It was just past midnight, early for the establishment, but on this Saturday night, it was packed. 

Link stood, drink in hand, with his shoulder in Rhett’s chest, surveying the room from the outer edges of an 80s-themed dance floor. Young people seemed lost in the music and in each other as decades-old music videos played on screens and house music folded itself into the familiar tunes. The two men stepped into the crowd, and flashing neon lights covered the floor, splashing across the convulsing mob of bodies and both of their faces. 

They each sipped their drinks as they moved, neither wanting to go all out and neither wanting to say no. Tomorrow, their miniature vacation would be over and the holidays would be upon them. It would be weeks before they spent much time alone.

After his second drink, Link’s body was beginning to look like it had the night before. It joined the crowd and the music, and Rhett’s fingertips twitched with the urge to recapture the feeling of wrapping around Link’s waist.

Rhett put them on Link’s arm, instead, and nodded away from the floor. Link nodded back, taking hold of one of Rhett’s belt loops as he led them away from the music and lights.

In the morning, neither of them would remember what happened first. Maybe Link ordered doubles, because Rhett was having far too much trouble remembering just how they got there. One moment they were in the outdoor bar behind Barbarella, languid bodies leaning against an ancient-looking tree, talking light-heartedly about the great footage they’d gotten for their ad.

The next moment, well, Rhett’s ears were ringing from standing too near the thrumming speakers, and he found himself reading Link’s lips more than listening to his words. 

That may have been why Rhett stooped his head further into Link’s space. Or maybe it started with Link dancing his fingertips across Rhett’s alcohol-reddened cheeks. Which of them reached for the other’s neck first? Rhett didn't know. His fingers were in Link’s hair, but that may have come after Link’s arm snaked its way around Rhett’s waist. 

All Rhett knew for sure was that Link, yes, it must have been Link, because he used his name, murmured, real low, “Rhett...I don’t want to be here until three.”

And then they were back in the hotel, hands on each other in the elevator. How they’d found their way back, even just a few blocks down the street, he didn’t know. Rhett did know his back hit the beige wallpaper outside the elevator at least once as Link’s lips chased him toward their room, but he couldn’t remember whether the liquor or Link’s hands sent him reeling.

And maybe Rhett pushed him, or maybe it was Link who positioned himself there, pulling Rhett down into him, but somehow the two long bodies found themselves up against the door jamb outside their room. Slender hands trailed down Rhett’s back, up under his wind jacket, and gradually pulled him closer, as close as he could get with all the fabric between them. 

One hand continued down, fingers moving over his waist, past his hips, until Rhett caught Link’s left hand, halting it before it could move any further and dragging it back up to his waist. 

Link was intoxicating, but Rhett begged his swimming mind to sober up, or to get as close as he could to it with Link’s arms around him like this. 

“Don't,” he whispered into the soft flesh peeking out of Link’s red shirt. 

“Why?” The hand started moving again and Rhett stopped it once more. 

“Please no,” he muttered, but Rhett’s lips continued working over Link’s neck, sending a far different message than his words did. 

After a second of quiet, of Link waiting, his body remaining stock-still under two big hands, Rhett spoke again. “It's... just don't.” A flash of his dark grey eyes caught Link, pinning him to the wall. _Not there_ , they said. _It’s forbidden_.

“Okay. Okay,” Link breathed, wrestling his hand from Rhett’s grip and moving it up his back. Grasping one of Rhett’s broad shoulders, Link pulled them closer, standing up on his toes, and teased his tongue further into his mouth. _We don’t have to talk_ , the move said. And for a long while, neither of them dared.

“But Rhett…” In the dimly lit hallway, pressed against the door to their room, Link whispered up into Rhett’s mouth. 

The elevator doors opened onto a few drunk business executives. One heavy beat went by before the businessmen stepped into the first door after the elevator lobby, and Rhett breathed out a sigh.

Link continued, still whispering, “Why are we in the hall, bo?” 

“We can’t...ugh,” the breath was forced out of Rhett again as Link’s fingers clutched at the front of his jeans. “We can’t...keep doing this in there.”

Rhett tried to draw lines in his consciousness. Out in the common areas, Austin could be blamed. Here, out in the open, they could put this off, whatever this was, on the alcohol, on the tacos, on some kind of magic in the air. They could be anyone. But inside, in that rented space, they were Rhett and Link, best friends and business partners. In that space, one much like the dozens they had shared before, like dozens more they might share if their business continued to take off, they could be only themselves. 

Rhett knew, or if he thought much about it, he would have known, that his attempt at rationalizing this way didn’t make sense. But just feeling like he was being the responsible one wasn’t enough to solidify his standing on the line between holding his ground and giving in. A lot of him, maybe most of him, very much wanted to tip across the line and fall into Link.

“Lemme get you inside.”

“No.” His heart beat rapidly and his chest heaved, fighting for air against Link’s proximity and the fear rising in his throat. Rhett closed his eyes and pressed his hands into the wall beside Link’s head, creating extra space without letting him go. But Link, taking advantage of Rhett’s moment of weakness, slipped his key in the door. 

As the room’s door creaked open, Rhett looked down and caught Link’s fingers against the handle. But it was too late. “Yes. Come on.”

Strictly speaking, size-wise, it would have been easy for Rhett to push Link around. He had twenty or thirty pounds and seven inches on him. But there was a lot more going on here than size, and Rhett let himself be pushed into the room, into the wall next to the closet. He let himself be fondled, and even as his brain tried telling his hands to fight back, he slid up the wall with Link, his jacket and shirt disappearing before he stepped out of his jeans. 

For what felt like a long time, his hands revolted, one clawing at Link’s hair while the other arm was a vise-grip around his slender, now-bare waist. But when Link tried moving him, hands at the small of his back dragging him one step toward the bed, the spell was broken.

“No! We can’t do this in here.” 

It came out loudly enough to shock both of them, and Rhett’s exposed skin tingled as Link released his back and lips, taking another step away without him.

“Rhett.” Fevered blue eyes locked onto grey ones as Link set his jaw and closed the gap between them again. “We’re already in here.”

“It’s too much, Link. I can’t. I...this…” He shook his head as his body backed away toward the other bed. Link stood staring at him through the dim light coming in the window from downtown. Rhett hadn’t let Link in on his theory about public spaces, about the symbolic barrier they’d crashed through when the hotel room’s door opened.

“Look, Rhett.” Link followed him into the space between their beds, took Rhett’s hand, and turned its palm up into Rhett’s body. Without touching Rhett himself, Link had quite pointedly directed his attention to his obvious arousal. “That’s where we are. Stay with me.”

“God, Link. What the hell are we…” With a deep sigh, Rhett grabbed Link’s hand and turned his wrist around until he was in the same position. “Happy now?”

Link swallowed hard, waiting for permission to touch Rhett again. He would have to keep waiting. 

With his free hand, Rhett pressed his fingertips into Link’s chest until he plopped onto his own bed. “Take those off. And stay on that bed.”

A question in his eyes and a shuddering gasp on his lips, Link stripped and spread himself out on the bed. When Rhett did the same on his side of the room, Link whimpered, his head starting to spin from the alcohol and the loss of Rhett’s body heat. 

But Rhett caught his eye again, and with a small, apologetic smirk, began stroking himself. He lay on his back, alternating between forcing his eyes shut and looking over at Link. 

Link’s eyes, shining even in the faint light, were locked on Rhett, moving up and down his body, lingering at his eyes and groin, and Link matched Rhett’s movements with his own. 

“God, Rhett, you look so good like this. I should come over there. Touch you. I’d… If you only knew what I’d....”

“Ugh, Link, shut up.” 

Link whined, but he quieted, and for a moment, the two men made only as much noise as was required by their panting breaths and groping hands. This wasn’t silence, it was the quiet witness of the other man’s simultaneous need.

“Never mind. Don't shut up,” Rhett breathed. “This is so weird. Please fucking talk.”

“Oh thank God,” Link moaned, one hand clutching a fistful of sheets. “You have no clue. If I were in that bed.”

Link’s breath hitched at the thought, and he heard Rhett groan with him. 

“...no clue what I’d do.”

A quiet, labored word came from the other bed. “What?”

“Wanna get my mouth on you”--both men sucked in a breath--“For starters.”

 

When they drifted off, spent, two different worlds materialized on two queen beds. Link fell into the sleep of a contented, satisfied man. He rested without dreaming, moving around in the bed less than he ever did. 

And a few feet away, in a very different world, Rhett panicked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know your thoughts! Any kudos and comments are much appreciated! <3
> 
> If you're interested, here's the [behind the scenes video](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0EbcGppe_xQ/) and [commercial](https://www.youtube.com/watch?annotation_id=annotation_871903&feature=iv&src_vid=0EbcGppe_xQ&v=BIeLvfgsLWM/).
> 
> And come find me on Tumblr as [clemwasjustagirl](http://clemwasjustagirl.tumblr.com/) if you're into that kind of thing.


	3. December 2009, Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On the morning they're getting tattooed, Rhett and Link are forced to deal with what happened the night before.

When Link opened his eyes, Rhett’s bed was empty and the shower was running. He took a quick assessment of himself and room. His body was bare. On the wall opposite him, the one he’d pushed Rhett against just hours before, a cheap art print was hanging off-center. Lining the wall, a trail of clothes, two jackets, two shirts, and two pairs of jeans, stood as a monument to the events of the night before. 

After a few minutes, Link stood. He took his first few steps across the room, and his stomach lurched after him. They’d had a lot to drink. 

That wasn’t the plan. When he walked into the bar, Link intended to take it easy. Have a drink or two. But the drinks were cheap, and he’d been talked into buying doubles. Twice.

The evidence offered by their discarded clothes was easily wiped away; Link quickly separated the clothes into two piles, folding his own and returning them to his suitcase, and straightened the off-kilter frame. Link couldn’t move as discreetly through the morning as Rhett had the day before, but with them both awake, it wasn’t necessary to quiet his steps. 

After tidying the room, Link pulled back a set of heavy curtains, allowing the sun to stream in through the oversized windows. With that, his exposed skin and pounding head were the only remnants of the previous night. 

Satisfied he’d done enough cleaning up, Link moved to the desk in the corner of the room, found a bottle of water, and quickly downed it, realizing after the first sip just how dry and sticky his mouth felt. After pacing for a few moments, he chose to remain unclothed. He needed to shower, too. So he sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping a blanket around his shoulders as he waited for Rhett to emerge from the bathroom. 

When another thirty minutes had passed, Link could wait no longer to talk to Rhett. And, perhaps more importantly, his bladder’s demand for relief was becoming an emergency.

For a moment Link stood outside the bathroom, but the shower ran continuously, offering no indication that Rhett would emerge any time soon. Any other day Link would have burst through the door, yelling for Rhett to stay behind the curtain, but, no matter what Rhett was thinking about in there, Link knew this morning was different. 

To settle himself, he pressed a palm against the wall’s off-white paint. He hung his head, closing his eyes and massaging them, attempting to shake away the sleep and dizziness that clung to him. When he opened his eyes again and pushed away from the wall, he felt empty. The night before, leaning on this wall came with having Rhett in his arms. 

Link took a step toward the bathroom and tested the handle. The door was unlocked. 

“Hey, Rhett? I uh, I really need to pee. Can I come in?”

Link held his breath as he waited, an involuntary reaction to his nerves. Rhett must have hesitated, but the water continued running. Just as Link found himself gasping for a breath, a voice came from inside the bathroom. “Yeah, okay.”

When Link opened the door, thick steam poured out into the cool air of the room, forcing a chill across his bare skin. He took off his glasses and tossed them back into the room; when the steam hit him the screen they created in front of his eyes was much worse than his astigmatism. His heart pounding at the silhouette of the man in the shower, Link took another step. He couldn’t stand in the doorway forever. Rhett would surely be feeling the draft from the cool air in the room by now.

As Link walked in, he could hear the cadence of the water in the shower change. Where it had been steadily streaming down onto something -- either Rhett or the tub he stood in -- it began to transform, a new pattern created by Rhett’s interruptions as he moved under the flow.

“I’m not going to flush, okay? Just in case?” 

“Nah, man, just do it.”

“Okay…” Link flushed the toilet and stood for a moment facing the shower curtain. “And uh. I need to take a shower, too,” he added. 

Behind the curtain, Rhett’s shadow stopped moving, frozen in time as the stream of water returned to its monotonous pattern. “I’m almost done,” he finally said, his voice low.

For how long Rhett had been in there, Link didn’t know, but he’d been awake for nearly an hour and the sound of the water hadn’t stopped. They had plenty of time before their appointment, but he wasn’t the only one who needed his chance to wash away the night.

Link made a rash decision. Rhett had said only as much to him as was necessary so far. Link couldn’t see his face, couldn’t read him. And he was already dressed for the occasion.

In one smooth motion, Link pulled back the shower curtain a few inches and slid himself into the tub, crying out and pressing himself against the far tile wall as the scalding stream of water hit him.

“Oh god, that’s hot!”

“Link, what the…?” Rhett turned quickly, grabbing Link’s arm when he nearly lost his balance. He had shampoo in his hair, running down into his eyes now, and he took Link’s shoulders, positioning him against the back of the tub and sliding past him toward the water. 

With his eyes closed against the stinging soap he tested a few angles for leaning his hair into the water. After seeming to admit to himself that none of them would preserve any semblance of modesty, he bent forward, lowering himself under the showerhead to wash the suds away. As he did, Link spotted the patch of deep red skin on Rhett’s back that had been subjected to the nearly intolerable heat. 

When he finished rinsing out his hair, Rhett reached down and turned the nozzle to moderate the water’s temperature, leaving it hot but not unbearable. 

Link did his best not to watch. Not to ogle the body in front of him. He failed. The long lines of his friend’s back and legs, the skin he’d only gotten to touch for a second before Rhett pushed him away, were too much.

Rhett caught him staring when he turned back around. “What the heck are you doing in here?”

“I just thought,” Link reached for Rhett’s hand, inspecting the pruney fingers and holding them up for Rhett to see, “thought you might never get out.”

“Well, I planned to at some point.” Rhett jerked his hand away and closed his eyes, standing still as the water flowed down his back. When he opened his eyes again seconds later, Link was staring intently into them. 

“Rhett, talk to me. Tell me what you’re thinking.” Link lifted his arms tentatively to Rhett’s sides, leaning forward to bring him within arm’s reach. Link’s fingertips grazed Rhett’s hips before Rhett’s hands were back on his shoulders, pushing him away with arms longer than Link’s.

“Rhett…” 

“Link, this. This is... we’re in the _shower_ , man. Last night we… oh god.” Rhett dropped his arms and looked away again, down this time, visibly jumping as he caught sight of Link’s fully nude body in front of him. 

Rhett stood silently, his eyes closed and head bowed, shutting Link off from himself and from the water’s heat. Link stood his ground, unwilling to leave. He was already here, and he resolved to make his friend talk to him. After several minutes, the sound of Link’s chattering teeth forced Rhett to look up. Despite the warm, wet air in the small room, Link’s entire body shook, his arms crossed over his chest and his lips losing color.

“Dammit, Link.” Rhett grabbed him once more, sliding his own back against the cold tile wall to switch their positions in the tub, and pushed Link’s thin frame under the hot water, rubbing his arms from shoulder to elbow. 

Rhett sighed, his thumbs resting in the crooks of Link’s arms as he kept his grip on them, holding any further attempt at touching him again at bay. “Better?” 

Link nodded. Rhett stared down at him, waiting for him to speak. Rhett knew, Link could tell, that they weren’t going to get out of this bathroom without discussing what had happened the night before.

“Are you going to tell me it was the liquor?” Link finally asked. “You’ve been in here, what, two hours? I can see the wheels turning up there, man.” He smiled softly, one last attempt to lighten the mood, and moved his fingers to point, but his ability to gesture was severely restricted by Rhett’s grip.

Rhett’s eyes searched Link’s face, a twitch in his eyebrows, a tightening of the muscles around his lips, the creases on his forehead all telling Link he was trying to formulate the right words to say. 

Finally he inhaled and settled on, “Do you have to keep looking at me like that?”

Link’s head cocked back in surprise, and he took a half step away, Rhett finally dropping his arms as he did. “Seriously, Rhett? How do you want me to look at you?”

“I just --”

“You just what?” Link was agitated now. When he’d stepped up into the tub, he thought he might follow through on the things he’d muttered the night before. The promises and confessions he’d made about what he’d do if he only had the chance. Link’s mouth, without touching Rhett, had pushed him over the edge, and they both knew it. 

“Ugh, damn it, Link,” Rhett growled. He surged forward, roughly jostling Link’s face between his hands. With a crushing force, Rhett kissed him, and Link pushed back against his chest, slamming Rhett’s tailbone against the shower wall. 

With an _oof_ Rhett gasped into Link’s mouth, fingers just brushing at the hair curling out around his ears, hands still clasped around his face.

As the taller man leaned down into the kiss, consumed, Link’s hands were free, and he slid them down across Rhett’s chest, fingertips grasping at his waist and sliding down to his hips. With a shaking breath, Rhett pulled away, his hands moving to Link’s shoulders and his eyes closed.

Link wrapped his fingers around Rhett’s forearms, holding himself back. With his back fully against the shower wall now, Rhett was splayed out for Link, and it would have been easy to make a move. Take Rhett in his hand or his mouth. But as Rhett settled himself, his chest expanding and receding, moving up and down quickly, Link could see, as before, the wheels turning in his mind. 

When his breathing returned to a more controlled pace, Rhett tilted his head down, his eyes soft. 

“I’m not making excuses. I’m not blaming you,” Rhett returned his hands, for the first time that morning, to Link’s waist, pulling him just close enough that Link could feel the proximity of Rhett’s body without touching him. “It’s my fault we...yeah. I know. But Link, we can’t do this.”

“You just, we just --” Link stammered.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Rhett shook his head, the disappointment in Link’s eyes reflecting the moisture forming in his own. 

“I don’t want you to be sorry, bo. Last night, whatever that was...it was good.”

“It wasn’t good,” Rhett’s voice was more certain now. Link’s eyes widened and he searched Rhett’s face. 

“Rhett…”

“We shared this room to save money for our families, Link. That’s what you said.”

“Yeah,” Link breathed. “I know.” He reached for Rhett’s face, one thumb grazing along the hair lining Rhett’s jaw and landing on his chin, his fingers teasing at the thickest patch of Rhett’s chinstrap beard.

“And then we...and then this.” Rhett tightened his grip on Link, his eyes chancing a glance down toward his shoulders and chest. “Then this happens.”

“But it felt…” Link started, and Rhett sucked in a shaky breath, his expression pained. “It felt. Dammit.” Ignorant to, or at least now unconcerned with, the state of their naked bodies, Link threw himself against Rhett, wrapping skinny arms around his torso as the two of them collided with the tile wall. 

“I know, buddy,” Rhett slid one arm around the entirety of Link’s waist, holding him close, and with his other hand massaged Link’s scalp through his shaggy wet hair. “We messed up.”

Link breathed in Rhett’s skin and the residue of hotel soap as tears formed in his eyes. As the men stood still, bodies pressed together, Link could feel every muscle in his body screaming for him not to let go. “What are we going to do?” he finally asked, looking up at Rhett from his place on his chest.

“Well,” Rhett continued scratching his fingers absentmindedly into Link’s hair, his voice quiet, the sound vibrating into Link’s ear and through his lungs. “We’re going to get out of the shower here in a minute and put on some clothes.” 

Link chuckled wanly. “That’s probably smart.”

“Mhmm.” Rhett moved his hand from Link’s hair to his jaw, his thumb grazing across Link’s cheek before he planted a kiss on his forehead. “And we need to talk about our tattoos.”

 

Link stayed behind in the shower to wash his hair and body. When he emerged back into the room, Rhett looked up from his spot on the end of his bed. He wore a dark purple t-shirt and light wash jeans, his things were packed, and he held a piece of notebook paper in his hands.

With a towel draped around his waist, Link gave Rhett a shy smile, found his clothes, and dressed quickly, the seated man quickly averting his eyes. 

Link sat on his bed, pulling on his shoes, and as he glanced up at Rhett, relief rushed through him. The paper in Rhett’s hand was the drawing Link had given him the day before. 

“Come sit by me,” Rhett said to the piece of paper once Link was dressed, patting a spot next to him on the hastily made bed. 

Link grinned up at him, but Rhett didn’t look his way. Link reached for his bag. “I drew some glasses, too. You wanna see?”

“No. I mean, yes, I’m sorry. I do,” Rhett stumbled over his words. Link stood over him now, his eyebrows furrowed. “Link, please sit down.”

“Okay…” Link took his place on the bed, one leg under him and his body turned toward Rhett, carefully keeping a few inches of space between them. 

“I think,” Rhett grabbed Link’s hand, squeezing it hard as he took a deep breath. “No. I’ve made up my mind. I’m gonna take that one guy’s advice. I’m getting Jessie’s name as my tattoo.”

“Wait, what?” 

“You could get Christy’s, too.” 

Link looked as if he’d been slapped across the face, shock and betrayal registering in his features.

“Hear me out, man. From a comedy standpoint, it’ll work. And for us…” Rhett trailed off, but his grip showed no signs of releasing Link’s hand. Finally, he turned his body so that the two men looked each other directly in the face. “We need to do this.”

Link ripped his hand from Rhett’s grip and backed away toward his side of the room. Rhett’s head fell into his hands as Link dug in his duffel for medicine to treat the headache forming between his eyebrows. Making as much noise as he could muster, Link stood, took the other bottle of water from the desk, ignoring the sign saying each would cost them $4, and swallowed three pills, slamming the bottle back onto the faux-wood surface. 

Silence settled over the room again, and Rhett broke it. “We need to head out pretty quick,” he whispered. “Especially if we’re going to see if that car’s moved.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Link slung his bag and half of their equipment over his shoulder and moved toward the door. “I’m going to go get some coffee.”

“So. Wait. You’re okay with this?” 

Link opened the door to the hallway and turned to face Rhett. “You didn’t act like I had much of a choice. Do I?”

Rhett looked up at Link and back down at the paper in his hand. “I guess not.”

“Okay then.”

When Link was gone, Rhett reached into his bag and grabbed the hardback book he’d been reading on the plane. With one final glance, he folded and slipped the piece of notebook paper between the book’s pages and returned it to his bag. He took a quick lap around the room, made sure they weren’t forgetting anything, then counted to one hundred and stepped out into the hallway.

 

Link was waiting for him downstairs, and as they walked side by side toward True Blue, the few inches carefully separating them stretched out like miles of desert highway. 

Link was tensed, a rattlesnake concealed against the expanse, any indication of his impending strike hidden to everyone but Rhett. 

When the now-familiar pale blue building came into focus, Link stopped short in the middle of the sidewalk and dropped to his knees, moaning a complaint to the heavens. Rhett rushed to his side, dropping his bags in the small patch of grass beside them.

“Link, are you okay?” Rhett bent to meet him on the ground and wrapped his arms around Link’s shoulders, concerned that he had somehow hurt himself. 

“No, I’m really not.” Link huffed. “That freaking hatchback is still there, and we’re not going to get a good shot.”

“Come on, dude,” Rhett chuckled, reaching out a hand to help Link up. “I told you that car would still be there. You can’t be blood-curdling-scream mad about that.”

“Well I am!” Link yelled in Rhett’s face, ignoring the offer of his hand. “You don't get to decide how pissed I am!”

“Link…”

In seconds, their bags were abandoned on the sidewalk as Rhett was thrown against the blue brick. Link’s hands grasped at the collar of Rhett’s jacket, arresting any possible motion from the taller man. Then, just as quickly, Link spun Rhett around and pressed his own back into the wall, dragging Rhett down to his level, forcing their lips together. 

As Link pushed Rhett away, his eyes burned as brightly as the blue flame they resembled. “Now you're going to tell me I can't get mad today?”

“No, I --”

Link shut Rhett up with another bruising kiss, using his grip on Rhett’s lapel to bring their faces together. 

After a long moment, Rhett pressed his palms, gently but forcefully, into Link’s shoulders and freed himself from his grip. Rhett sighed, holding Link at arm’s length as he took a deep breath. “What we did can’t keep happening, Link.”

Then, suddenly, unexpectedly, his hands were cupping Link’s face, and he planted a gentle kiss on Link's cheek. His voice was soft when he spoke again, searching Link’s face and ghosting a thumb across his cheek as he did. 

“Because I can't lose you, man. Please don't do this.”

Link could feel the anger leaving his body, his temper cooling as the air around them forced him to pull down on the sleeves of his light red hoodie.

Rhett continued staring intently into him even as his hands drifted down Link’s shoulders to rub warmth into his arms. The concern in his face terrified Link. He could see it all there -- Rhett was genuinely worried that their partnership, their friendship, wouldn't survive this. 

“These,” Link started, but he stopped short, taking a second to choose his words. “Rhett, are you sure? Tattoos are...permanent.”

If it were possible, Rhett's eyes looked sadder now, the weight of being responsible in that moment bearing down on him. “So are vows.” Rhett’s eyes pled with Link. “Right?”

Link nodded, gnawing at his bottom lip, then pushed lightly on Rhett’s shoulders and returned his weight to his feet. He grabbed his half of the bags and Rhett followed closely behind him. 

As they reached the tattoo shop’s door, Rhett caught Link’s wrist. 

“We’re going to have to turn it on for the cameras, you know.”

Link opened the door and smiled sadly back at his friend. “Yeah, I still know how to do my job.”

 

Their tattoo artist greeted them as they came through the door, offering two seats near his station with a quick wave as he went back to adding a geometric pattern to a wiry, grey-haired man’s sleeve-in-progress. 

“Planet of the Apes, nice,” the tattooed man said to Link, noting his t-shirt. 

“Yeah, he’s a purveyor of fine graphic tees,” Rhett laughed, shaking Link’s shoulder with a wide, warm hand. 

For nearly half an hour, Rhett and Link watched as the man’s newest tattoo was filled out, talking with the other men simultaneously easing their minds about the process and preventing them from being forced to say much to each other. 

When it was finally their turn, they shot some footage discussing which butt cheek they'd be getting tattoos on, both choosing the right side because, as Rhett put it, on the plane “We should be leaning the same way in relief.”

“What did y'all decide on?”

“How's your penmanship?” Rhett joked, and Link’s heart beat faster. “We’re going to go ahead and do our wives’ names.”

“I can do that for ya. Write the names down here and I'll draw it.”

Soon, Rhett was laid out on the table. Link made him go first. If this was really happening, he needed to see it for himself. 

“You have the right name set up back there?” Rhett chuckled as the man fired up the tattoo gun. “We’re going to be in all kinds of trouble if the wrong people end up on our butts.” 

“That's an understatement,” Link muttered, but the sound of a cursive ‘J’ taking permanent residence on Rhett’s body drowned out the comment. 

Throughout the process, they joked with each other and with the tattoo artist, playing up the situation for the camera, Link asking Rhett to describe the pain and Rhett demonstrating that he could cope by allowing his mouth to hang open and his eyes to go crossed. 

When it was Link’s turn, the pain was like nothing he'd felt before, boring into his skin and burning like fire. “Owwww.” _It's what I deserve._ "This was a mistake,” he said to the camera, his eyes watering. 

He'd never tell Rhett which of the mistakes he made that weekend were encapsulated in the statement. 

 

As they boarded the plane back to North Carolina, away from Austin and toward their responsibilities with their families, Rhett spoke the first word between them since they left True Blue. 

“You alright man?”

Link sat against the window, leaning to his left. “Yeah. I will be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to know your thoughts! Any kudos and comments are much appreciated! <3
> 
> Come find me on [Tumblr](http://clemwasjustagirl.tumblr.com/) if you're into that kind of thing.
> 
> Thank you [Mythicalseries](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mythicalseries/pseuds/Mythicalseries) for your encouragement and notes and editing and literally everything. You da best <3


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